My Sweetest Downfall
by Nijaded
Summary: This is how young Hermione Granger's destiny was shaped when she suddenly remembers the strange blonde-haired man she met on a train to Liverpool and how their lives intertwine over the next eleven years. AU, but DH compliant.
1. Your Hair Was Long When We First Met

Author's Note: I've been working on this for a long time and I've morphed a lot of old pieces into this one piece with my all-time favorite pairing. I hope you all enjoy it, and keep in mind it's totally AU and at times OOC. It will be long but hopefully not drawn out, and if you read my other stories you know my creativity comes in bursts so I apologize in advance for the length between updates, you might want to alert this story so you don't have to search through pages for an update.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any songs featured in this work of fanfiction.

My Sweetest Downfall.

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'You are my sweetest downfall; I loved you first, I loved you first.'  
-Regina Spektor, _Samson_

Part One: Your Hair Was Long When We First Met

I could remember the day that changed my life forever. Of course, I would not understand how or fully comprehend why my life had changed; I would not realize it until nearly ten years later. Then, I could not see the motions set in place by the random actions and their equally bizarre reactions, planting seeds that would take much time of undisturbed growth.

Looking back now, however, I can see that every encounter I've ever had with him since I was seven years old was either carefully planned or destined, because the idea of coincidences or circumstance just did not apply to this situation.

Nothing happens for a reason; things just happen, the world keeps turning, and we all will go on.

Sometimes when I close my eyes and drown out the world, I still feel like the little girl glaring up at him in the book shop even as he smirked down knowingly at me- _knowingly_- well, then I hadn't realized what he'd known, but he was the fearsome lion and I was a docile gazelle; he was my predator.

_My_ predator.

But unlike a skittish, wary gazelle, I had never learned to run from my stalker. And he toyed and played with me until there was nothing left, not any fight in me. But as a young thing, I had all the spite and fire in me burning for him and stared up at him like he offended me as much as I offended him.

From that moment on, he haunted my dreams in different ways and ever-changing reasons as time went on. When I was twelve, I replayed our meeting in my head subconsciously and mostly it was a play-by-play of what had occurred, only more shimmery and dream-like. But then, every once in awhile I'd wake breathless and sweaty from a dream that was him and I alone in Flourish and Botts on that day, no parents, no friends, no Weasleys, just him. He would circle me while his voice crooned in my ears, and his gloved hands would stroke me in passing innocently, but enough to make me shiver as he introduced himself and went on about all of my secrets and other Dark things...

I had never given much thought to those dreams. After all, it had been an important day for me and not because of him, but by meeting him on that day he was a part of it. In that one day, I convinced my parents to come to Diagon Alley with me and help me purchase my school things and also get me a pet which turned out to be my familiar. I had also been reunited with my first true friends I had ever had while growing up, after a long summer of fretting they wouldn't like me anymore. Not only all of that, but I was also about to meet someone (who I once thought) was one of the greatest Wizards of all time.

So to dream about that day in particular was not so very peculiar but to only dream of him on that day was odd, however, I decided long ago not to dwell on it and shrugged it off thinking it was mainly from being exposed to Draco's daily taunts and tantrums amidst the Chamber of Secrets mystery.

But I saw glimpses of Lucius Malfoy at school Quidditch games as he sat in the stands next to Professor Snape and watched his son play expectantly. During a Slytherin-Hufflepuff match one winter I observed him in the stands for nearly the entire duration of the game. He was always so engrossed in the sport, or at the very least waited for Draco to do something brilliant or embarrassing. But it was during one of those games that I was stealing glances of him that a déjà vu struck me; a memory resurfaced from long before.

Suddenly, I felt silly for not remembering.

Five years earlier when I was just about seven years of age, I had been taking a train ride with my parents to Liverpool and I had wandered off from our compartment to adventure around the other travelers and hidden compartments. We had only just departed and I was anxious to arrive at our field day in Liverpool. I roamed the train, taking everything in and smiling at the friendly people.

At the other end of the section I was walking, I saw a man talking heatedly to one of the contenders. I couldn't say why I was so interested in the situation playing out before me, but I was. He was tall and wearing a long cloak, a style I never recognized my father wearing or other men in our neighborhood or community. It was a deep, midnight blue and as I drew nearer I could swear I saw stars swirling in the fabric.

I continued stepping forward, amazed, trying to get a closer look. The nearer I became, I could hear what the men were talking about. They were arguing; that much was clear, but I couldn't decide over what until I was right behind them.

"-Listen, you Mu- moronic imbecile, I'm demanding you stop this train and let me off. I've already explained I'm late to a meeting and got on this monstrosity purely by accident-"

"And I've already explained, sir, we cannot stop this train at any undesignated destination points. You should have been more careful-"

By this time I had arrived at their backs, but was too entranced with his swirling robes, and watched the stars bounce up and down his back, disappearing under his long, silvery-blonde hair that fell down his back.

I laughed a little in amazement, awe-struck at his attire, and reached my finger out to brush it against the soft fabric. The stars clustered there shot out at different angles and disappeared. The men turned to stare down at me, baffled.

I reddened and retracted my hand, staring up at them blankly. The train worker recovered quicker than the other man and bent towards me, "Little girl, run along to your mummy and daddy-" but the cloaked-man was looking down at me with a wistful expression, gears turning behind his eyes.

"Do not address my daughter," the other man cut in, "whilst you are making her late for her- ah- dance lessons. She is most upset and wishes to be off the train immediately," the blonde man drew himself up, placing his hand on the expanse of my neck and shoulder. I started a little in shock and looked up at him while he looked down at me pointedly.

With his left eye not facing the contender he winked down at me conspiratorially and I felt a rush of adrenaline. We were telling a lie, a grown-up was pretending to be my daddy to get off the train. But he was such an intriguing thing, with a cloak that had moving fabric and no one else seemed to notice.

I wanted to lie with him.

"Daddy, make the train stop!" I blurted up at him, whining, and he looked helplessly to the other man. "I'll never get to ballet now!"

I lowered my head, feigning sobs while the contender attempted to pacify me.

"Oh- hey, now- there, there- what say you stop in Manchester, eh? There's a nice taxi service there that can take you back whence you came- or wherever you want go. How's that sound, love?"

I smiled brightly up at the contender and thanked him.

"Come along, pet," the blonde-haired man said, and turning we retreated from the front of the train and went into an empty compartment. He closed the door as I sat down by the window and a passing thought flew through my mind: I should have been scared, maybe, being alone in a room with a strange adult whom I didn't know.

But fear was the furthest thing from my mind.

The trait that my parents predominantly described me as was curious; in fact, my daddy often joked that they should have named me Alice for my constant inquiries about the world and how it worked, aside from the fact that it was my favorite bedtime story.

And now, sitting in here in the dimly-lit compartment across from someone who resembled a fairy tale character more than anyone I had ever met; I just couldn't be curiouser.

He turned and I looked at his face, studying it interestedly. He was around the same age as my father if I had to guess, but he looked so different than any man I had ever seen before. His long hair flowing past his shoulders, his enchanting cloak, and then I saw his light eyes.

It was the first time I had ever seen anyone with such peculiar eyes. Mine and my parents were brown, and our neighbors Mary Ingle and her family had green-hazel eyes, and of course there was blue.

But that silvery, piercing grey in his eyes; they fixed me with a stare and I was mesmerized; for they seemed to be endless, swirling like the stars on his cloak, but freezing cold like chips of ice.

"Your eyes…" I murmured and he frowned in confusion.

"What?" He snapped at me and I jumped a little, like breaking out of a trance.

I shook my bouncy curls about my head and sighed, "They're strange, like your cloak. I can see stars in them."

He looked down at his robes like he had forgotten he was wearing them and when he looked back at me, his expression was guarded. "So you noticed, did you?"

His voice was so cultured, clipped, and refined. He sat in the seat across from me, his grey eyes pinning my own like knives.

Hesitantly I nodded and waited for him to say something else. The silence was heavy around us as the English country side flew by on the other side of the compartment.

Then he settled back further into his seat and commented, "No one else on this train took notice of my robes, or my cloak, as you say. What do you see now?"

I looked back down at his robes, seeing the stars twinkling brighter than I remembered from before. But the closer I stared, the more I realized _all_ the stars were moving, in a slow circular motion just like the night sky. Leaning forward for a closer look, I could see the constellation Orion turning over his chest.

"It's-It's a replica! Of the real night sky, but how-?" I wondered aloud but was interrupted by the train lurching for a moment and it propelled me forward. With a wince I landed on my knees in front of him, wincing as I felt the skin on my knees scraping off. He stared down at me with a cocked eyebrow, just… staring.

I averted my eyes, blushing.

His fingers were hooking underneath my chin and turning my head back towards him. His face was smiling warmly at me.

"What else do you see?" He asked softly.

When I looked back at him, really stared hard, the silver in his eyes was not just glowing there, but coursing through his body. Silvery lines flowed through his head, down his neck and splitting off to each of his arms all the way to his fingers, and back up to pass through his heart, down his stomach and splitting off again to his legs.

This matter, it swirled and moved in him, and it was beautiful.

"It's light, never-ending and pure light, but how-?"

Absentmindedly, I reached out to touch him, but the light vanished.

"Where did it go? How did you do that?" I asked him, frowning.

The man smiled and helped me to my feet.

"You should be running along, now. I expect we'll be stopping soon," he explained, looking out the window.

But I would not accept that, I wanted to know what happened and what it all meant. I whined, "But you haven't told me how you did that yet…"

"You should already know, little witch, or you would not be able to see anything with those chocolate drops you have for eyes," he said coyly, and his hand guided my shoulder back to my seat and he bent over me.

I felt my little heart beating fast suddenly, and didn't know why.

_Little witch?_

He grabbed my ankle and bent my leg while resting my foot on his knee, holding it there in the air, inspecting it.

My skinned knee stared up at both of us and I watched him, wondering what he was doing- again, not even concerned with the danger I might be in.

His pale fingers ran over my cuts, and he was murmuring something under his breath I couldn't make out; it was in a foreign language. But I stopped straining to hear when I saw the marks on my knees start sealing back up at an incredible rate.

The blood dissipated and the skin closed, fading from dark pink to white in a matter of seconds leaving only a faint mark I could see if I squinted my eyes just _so._

I could only exhale in wonder as he repeated this with the other knee and it was as if I had never hurt myself. I looked upon the man with a new sense of rapture, completely captivated by the magical being. I read about wizards and witches in fairy tales, but had never dreamed them to be real. Mother always said school books were more practical.

"Attention passengers: we are making an unscheduled stop in Manchester for anyone needing to get off the locomotive. We are now arriving in Manchester. Please, ladies and gentlemen, make an orderly exit so we can be on our way."

We both recognized the voice as the contender from before as well as the slight annoyance in his tone coming from overhead.

I giggled slightly and the strange, blond-haired man smirked down at me. "It seems as if that was directed at me. Thank you for your help; you were a fine little actress."

Feeling a rush of pride run over me as it always did when I was praised by the adults in my life, I smiled demurely and did a small curtsy for the wizard, for I was not sure what else was appropriate for this occasion.

He chuckled at me, and took my hand and brought it to his lips in a brief, chaste kiss. Then he pulled his cloak tighter about him and exited the compartment without another word, and I just watched in awe after him until he was out of sight.

I rushed over to the window and after a few seconds saw him step off the train. He started walking in the opposite direction of where we were heading, but I kept watching him. After we were a safe distance away, he vanished totally into thin air. I remembered that I had been distinctly forcing myself not to blink.

Sinking into the seat behind me, I was still looking at the spot where he had stood until it was out of view with a smile on my face. I couldn't believe what had just transpired. I met a man who could do magic; on a train, on an unsuspecting Sunday. It was so surreal.

Suddenly, I got to my feet and ran to find my parents. I had to tell them everything; that I met someone who could do magic and it was real, and I could see it moving through his body and the way his clothes moved like a picture on the telly.

But after I had located my mother and father and tried to recount the amazing encounter that had just occurred I was met with overwhelming concern and fear.

They thought someone had been trying to abduct me; never mind the part about magic, or my skinned knees being healed, or that he vanished into _thin air._

No, my parents didn't listen to me and kept me in between them in our compartment the whole rest of the way.

Whenever I had tried to bring the instance up after that, I was shushed and told to be grateful I was still alive and well, not dead or locked up somewhere with a pervert.

But I knew what had happened, and I didn't think my magical stranger had ever intended me ill will.

When I played make-believe I would pretend the blonde-haired man was with me and taught me how to do magic and I would run all around the playground with a twig I had found pretending it was a wand, casting spells, escaping danger, saving lives with my magic.

But whenever my parents found me playing this way, or heard me talk about the blonde-haired man they instantly tried to discourage me and put books in my hands. It was never that they hated magic, they just didn't know how else to handle the situation.

As time went on and I started growing up, I began to forget what had happened. After all, no one believed me, so it began to create a self-doubt that I found more difficult to refute with each day that passed.

That was, until I got my Hogwarts letter.

So very abruptly, magic was confirmed. All that time I had denied the truth was time in vain. But I still never brought up the blond-haired man to anyone ever again; instead, letting him fade into memory quietly, secretly; only to be remembered at that match across the stands.

He had been watching Draco, of course, but as he flew by the broom, waving at his father I saw Malfoy Senior's face as if it were the first time. Smirking and giving a small wink to his son as he passed him, Lucius' face suddenly connected with the man's on the train.

It _was_ him, absolutely it was.

How had I not remembered or noticed before? His face was nearly the same, perhaps a bit older and his hair longer; but that hair, so long and so silvery in its glow, how could I have forgotten?

I was so enraptured in memory I did not see him turn to look at me, like he knew I was there watching him all along.

Our eyes locked and we were both completely still for a full minute, the fans and spectators cheering and howling around us strangely deafened to my ears, their faces blank for my eyes only registered his.

I wondered if he remembered me. When he had glared down at me like he was glaring at me now, did he remember that we had met before? Did he recall I had seen his living magic in him? Did he still think about healing my knees?

I didn't move, I just looked at him with wide eyes and my lips pressed tight together. I don't think I was even breathing then, I held my breath until I felt dizzy, I convinced myself that was why my head was spinning.

He looked away first back to the match, sneering at something Professor Snape was murmuring into his ear and agreeing with a tight nod.

The abruptly broken eye contact either snapped me out of a trance or put me into one; I would never know which.

I sucked in gulps of air and then staggered to my feet, struck by unnamed emotions rapidly fluttering through my body which were too much to process. I simply couldn't. I turned and started pushing past people in their seats to get to the aisle. Ron and Harry called after me but I kept running all the way from the stands, across the grounds, and through an opening in the woods.

And I never stopped. It was light enough to see but I steered away from the shadows growing deeper in the Dark Forest, snow crunching under my feet and twigs breaking under my oxford shoes as I sprinted.

Somehow I was running faster than I ever had before, like I had been doing it my whole life and I couldn't even stop to ask myself why because my mind was blank, nearly unseeing with unshed tears as I bolted through branches, feeling them scratch my face and palms.

The strangest part was I felt like I was running _to_ something, but I had no destination or ideas in mind; I was just sprinting where my legs and feet were carrying me for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than twenty minutes.

Finally, I just sort of stopped. I swooned against a tree for support as I tried to regulate my breaths, shaking there against the rough bark.

As I regained control of my body, my mind began to clear up as well and I began to wonder why I had run like that. Was it that I was running away from him- from Lucius? But why?

Surely he was a terrifying man when he needed to be, but I ran only _after_ he looked away from me, not whilst he was glaring at me.

I shook my head violently as if trying to shake the thoughts from my brain. It felt like too much; I couldn't explain what I had felt, only that I was overcome with… was it sadness? I had had tears in my eyes, but I wasn't crying, they had already rolled down my cheeks and were drying.

Moreover, why would I have been sad in the first place?

No, I refused to believe that.

I just couldn't fathom being upset over a Malfoy ignoring me. That's what I had always _wanted,_ especially since Ron and Draco's last fight ending in Ron vomiting slugs during Harry's Quidditch practice.

However, as I panted and clutched at my ribs and looked around the unfamiliar Dark Forest I acknowledged that I had been upset. If it was because of the memory or that heated stare broken so unexpectedly, I was not sure but I wanted to push it out of my head; to stop thinking and subsequently dreaming about Lucius Malfoy.

Obviously I had been distressed to enter blindly into the forest without thinking. I had only been here once, but that was under the supervision of Hagrid who knew the unsettling and twisting woods well from working in them as Gamekeeper for so many years.

Right now, I was utterly alone.

My composure was slowly returning and I began to dread finding my way back to the castle and was even more anxious to return to the dormitory where I was sure Harry and Ron would undoubtedly be waiting to hear why I ran off like that.

Could I tell them I met Lucius on a Muggle train? Would they even believe me? I was sure Ron wouldn't; if only because of his hate of the Malfoy's and his knowledge of their hate of Muggles. I wasn't too sure about Harry; he was more understanding than Ron and didn't really believe in the impossible, so there was a good chance he'd listen to me. Why would I lie about it anyway?

Then that led me to start wondering: why had the older wizard been on the train that day? How could he have gotten onto a Muggle train by mistake? That just didn't seem possible but even if he had, why couldn't he have Apparated off the train to begin with?

There were too many questions I would probably never know the answer to. When would there be time to confront him, what was more, would I even want to? I couldn't even picture confronting him about it, or how I would start…

'_Mr. Malfoy, it's me, Hermione Granger; you know, that Muggle girl who helped you off the train in Manchester all those years ago and knew you were a wizard…'_

I shook my head again pushing off the sturdy tree trunk and steadying my balance. My calves and lungs were burning but I thought I should probably start walking. The match should have been over by now and I hoped I wouldn't meet up with them walking up from the stands.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about it now that I knew.

How did he feel knowing he'd healed a so-called Mudblood? Another realization struck me; he knew now that I had magic before Hogwarts. So they couldn't call me that word anymore- no one could, and if they did I would remind him of that incident.

My mind fluttered back to the identical wink he'd given Draco, like a final puzzle piece fitting together the whole thing. It was almost comical how I hadn't recognized him before, but the whole occurrence had been buried in my memory for so long.

As I remembered the way he took my hand in his and raised it to his lips chills ran over my body. It had felt like such a promise at the time, but in what way I couldn't begin to describe.

Endlessly, it seemed, I wandered through the Dark Forest trying to find my way out. It felt like it was growing darker with every minute that passed but I forced myself not to worry, telling myself I would find my way soon.

But soon I began to hear noises that had me gasping and turning, scanning for the source after the fourth time I gave into the paranoia and I pulled out my wand, lighting it with a whispered, "Lumos," and only then I felt a little safer.

Hurrying along, I made certain nothing was following me and mentally kicked myself again for being so stupid.

I was trying to go towards the fading light, convinced that was the way to exit the forest, but I felt like I kept changing directions. I stopped for a moment to survey the area and decide which way to go when I heard a loud crunch come from behind me.

Spinning around, with my wand at the ready in hand, a figure stepped out from the trees.

But of course. Of course it was him.

And while I was not mildly surprised to see him, it didn't stop my confusion. Had he been trailing after me? Well, he must have been. Unless he was just taking a leisurely stroll through the Dark Forest which was more unlikely than him following me.

He was smirking at me as he stepped closer.

"You remembered," he spoke so softly I almost didn't think he had actually addressed me. But his lips had moved, I do recall his mouth moving, his lips forming the words.

Just minutes ago I was thinking about confronting him, and now here he was approaching me about it and I was speechless.

Idly, I wondered what would have happened if I had gotten to him first.

He stopped a few feet away from me, towering over me so it felt like he was standing right in front of me. When I was younger he didn't seem so ominous to me, and his pale features looked so harsh in the twilight.

It was ironic I was less afraid of him as a stranger than when I knew his name.

My lips had parted to speak, but my mouth was dry. I had to lick my lips to answer, "I did."

Now his eyes were watching me and every twitch I made his eyes followed.

"You will tell no one," he ordered, his voice unyielding.

I took a step back slowly, and started to shake my head and I suppose he took this as some kind of hostility or disagreement.

He advanced on me so suddenly I had no time to react; I barely knew what was happening until his gloved hands were on me, one was grabbing around my upper arm and the other squeezing the wrist of my wand hand.

Struggling against him at first, I kicked out at him once and missed because he was maneuvering me backwards, but I already knew logically I was no match for him. A girl of twelve against a full-grown wizard was no contest. My wand had slipped though my fingers and rolled away. I was defenseless.

My body went limp against him and I could only look pleadingly up into his cold eyes.

He backed me into something solid, what could only have been a tree I assumed and I clutched at his arms in yet another fruitless attempt to disengage him from me but caused him to only clutch tighter to me.

"Do not test me, girl," he warned in a low voice. He wasn't really hurting me at all, but his grip was firm and threatening enough to make swallow the lump in my throat and stop prying at his fingers.

"I-I wasn't trying to," I tried to explain calmly, but my voice betrayed how uneasy I felt.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. "Then why did you make such a spectacle of yourself in the stands? Even the Slytherins across the field noticed your rapid departure and Professor Snape inquired of me if I had cursed you."

My face reddened. I figured everyone would be too absorbed in the game to notice me dissect the existence of Lucius Malfoy.

When I answered, my voice sounded so small. "That… wasn't… I didn't mean to," I said imploringly.

He cocked a pale brow and scoffed. "You didn't mean to? You certainly looked like you were up to something."

"It wasn't like that!" I defended myself. "I just wanted to get away from everyone, to think, and I just started running. I guess I wasn't really thinking at all…"

His features relaxed some and he stepped away from me, letting me stumble a little and fetch my wand. I kept it at my side; I didn't want to pocket it just yet…

"No one ever believed me anyway, you know… about you," I admitted, not really sure why I was offering up that as well. I just wanted him to know that, and that I definitely didn't want to talk about him with anyone else after that incident.

"Good. I will personally see to it that no one does. It never should have occurred and it was an egregious error on my part. I don't want you thinking that you are… special… somehow," he said in a nonchalant manner, his words almost lazy, heavy with the burden they carried.

I rubbed at my wrist spitefully, bubbling with heated anger at his words. "Why would I think that?"

Lucius shrugged a shoulder and answered, "It seemed like something a Muggle would do."

His words stung me like a slap on the cheek, but I wouldn't take it. I wanted to throw it back at him. "No! No, I won't tell anyone about the train but you can't call me that. I'm a witch, and you know it! I saw your robes and you showed me your living magic, and that is something that you can't take back."

"There have been many cases over the years of Muggles witnessing magic or spell work done by wizards and they were all dealt with accordingly. It's a shame the system failed us by letting someone like you in here, but it is to be expected with incompetent fools supervising our institutions," he said regretfully, with a look of longing.

I gaped up at him incredulously. "That's-That's rubbish-"

"Watch your tone when addressing a Pureblood, Muggle," he sneered down at me and I bit my lip, looking away and trying not to cry.

It wasn't fair. How could he just lie out-right like that; not just to me but to himself? My head was nearly spinning with the injustice, his stubbornness, and the laws of the Wizarding world…

A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek and I wiped at it furiously, fuming at myself for letting him make me cry- especially in front of him.

Satisfied with my lack of response, Lucius turned and started walking away. "I would recommend you follow me if you'd like to make it out of the forest… intact."

I stared after him for a few moments before my legs started working again. I trailed after him at a short distance, more baffled than ever.

For what felt like the tenth time I went over the scenario again in my head: Lucius stalked after me through the forest to threaten me, then insult me, and then help me find my way back out of the Dark Forest.

My lungs just wanted to scream 'WHY' at the back of his head but I kept quiet and said no more to him. I wanted to be out of the forest by nightfall and if the safest person to go with was Lucius, I would go along with him. I had a feeling I would begrudge myself later, but now that didn't matter.

"I assure you I did not intend to escort you; I know you must be wondering why I am. Well, I concede I may not like your kind, but as a governor of this school I do have a civic duty to protect its students. After seeing you run into the forest despite knowing it is forbidden, it would have been wrong for me not go after you."

I listened to his words and struggled to understand the underlying meaning. Was he trying to justify his actions now?

By now I could see we were reaching the edge of the forest and I could see Hagrid's dim firelight in the distance to my right.

He stopped and faced me again, appraising me for a few long minutes.

"As a governor of this school I should inform a professor of your whereabouts and your flagrant bending of the rules, although… I suppose I could look the other way just this once… And we shall never have to speak again. Does this sound agreeable to you?"

I ignored my racing heart and twisting belly and replied, "Yes, sir."

"Very good," he replied slowly, and his eyes burned into me, white-hot in the moonlight. "I'm sure you can find your way from here."

With that he turned again from me and kept walking along the edge of the forest so I couldn't tell if he was leaving or going deeper. After realizing I had been standing there for too long, I hurried along towards the castle.

When I finally reached the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Harry were waiting just as I had expected and rounded on me the instant the portrait opened and demanded to know where I had been and what I had been doing.

Their concern was touching, but I brushed them off saying I had been in the Library and was exhausted from studying and was going up to my room, despite their protests of having checked the Library and not having the energy to do anything right then but curl up in bed and try not to think about Lucius Malfoy.

And fortunately, or unfortunately, he gave me all the time in the world to do that; when the basilisk got me.

I had been just about to unravel the riddle to the boys after all that researching to distract myself from those thoughts when I turned the corner and saw yellow eyes in the reflection of my mirror, and then all I could remember was the ceiling.

Being paralyzed was a bittersweet pill. On the one hand, everything was fuzzy and distant, like I was in a constant dream-state. I couldn't focus too much on anything around me because everything felt so slowed down, even my brain felt like it processed things sluggishly, when the Professors found me I barely recognized them by their names until I was in the Hospital Wing.

When Harry and Ron came to see me I wanted to jump up and hug them, but knowing I couldn't do that or even respond to their voices made me want to cry which I couldn't even manage either.

Most of my thoughts over the next few weeks were of my last fully-awake moments; the basilisk and corridors and mirrors and eyes. But when I felt like I was really dreaming and not just thinking, I saw Lucius there too beside the snake, encouraging it and running his fingers along its massive scales.

His icy-grey eyes turned into liquid gold.

Then I would wake and try and fail to move before remembering where I was. I had been in the Hospital Wing enough times to know by then what its ceilings looked like.

I made every effort I could to erase him from my memory but I couldn't, and then lying there for weeks and weeks… soon I was thinking only about him; about what had happened between us and the words we spoke.

My mind fixated on it and replayed it over and over again when I had enough presence of mind to do so. It felt like the longer I was paralyzed, the harder it was to function, as if my body were actually slowly shutting down. It scared me and made me not want to sleep at all.

In a constant state of numbness I couldn't feel the pain I must have been in, only the dull ache that echoed from my nerve endings.

Then one night, I heard Professor Dumbledore talking to Madame Pomfrey about a girl being taken into the Chamber. Everything was so faint at this point that I could barely hear words, just muffled sounds that got dimmer the further away they were.

But then I heard a voice almost as loud and clear as if it were shouting in my ear. It was Lucius, there in the room.

Like a miracle, if felt like I had moved and could see him. He was speaking patronizingly to Dumbledore, about Hagrid, the monster, the unfortunate accidents. The Headmaster was speaking calmly in turn, not letting Lucius deter him.

Then Lucius was in my line of view. He was looking upon me, his back to the others and his face unguarded for the first time I'd seen since I was a little girl.

And his expression was what could only be horrified.

His grey eyes were wide and focused on my own face, his mouth parted slightly and his face as pale as ever.

I wouldn't know why until later.

But after only a moment he set his jaw and said that tragedies such as the likes of me needed to be stopped and turned abruptly back to the others, pulling out his letter signed by the other governors removing the Headmaster from the school.

I wished Ron and Harry were there holding my hands. I remembered feeling my heavy heart thudding dully in my chest as I drifted into an exhausted sleep to the sounds of the adults talking with my eyes wide open.

After being revived and getting filled in on everything from Harry and Ron, I felt sick.

Part of me refused to believe Lucius really was the reason I almost died; my brain tried to tell me it was an accident, or a grave coincidence. But the older I got, the harder it was to live in self-denial. I had to stop lying to myself.

Lucius Malfoy was a dark wizard, one whose actions almost resulted in my death and he hated all the things Muggle or Muggleborn.

I thought about him way too much. I painted him as a picture in my head from child as some kind of magical deity and I was still trying to think of him in that way, but I had to clear the smoke. I vowed that I should keep away from the Malfoy's, all of them; lest I be poisoned.


	2. Unwillingly Mine

A/N: I've decided to switch POVs by chapter, so this chapter will be Lucius' POV and the next will be Hermione's and so on. This way you can see both sides of the story, but leaves some things open to the imagination.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I sincerely thank you for reading this story.

Disclaimer: see Part One.

* * *

My Sweetest Downfall.

Fate; up against your will, through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him.'  
-Echo and the Bunnymen, _the Killing Moon_

* * *

Part Two: Unwillingly Mine.

I felt her gaze on me again and I snapped my eyes into her direction, but she was suddenly looking down at the players zooming by on broomsticks.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to my son's Quidditch match and tried to refocus on his form, which shouldn't have been as difficult as he was the only Slytherin in emerald green robes with silvery hair the same color as my own.

The girl was distracting me; I could practically feel her eyes beading on me as if she were only an arms-length away. If I looked in her direction, her head turned towards the other students she was sitting with, but she did not and would not ever fool me. She was watching me and I couldn't help but wonder why…

The first and last time we met, she gave no indication that she remembered anything and it had pleasantly surprised me that she had not recognized me in Flourish and Botts; but then, she had been very young at the time and nearly six years had passed. I, of course, knew her face instantly as it was only a slightly older version of the one I had seen before and I felt my heart seize with panic that she might feel come kind of… attachment to me because of what had transpired day. I could all too clearly picture her trying to explain to her friends how she knew me from the train and what she saw- what I actually showed her- while my son and the others looked on at us bewildered.

Thankfully (for some reason I would never know,) it took her much longer to make the actual connection. Why that day at Draco's game, of all days, was beyond me. After she spent nearly the whole match trying to play coy with me and trying to surreptitiously stare at me when she thought no one could see her, I finally let my gaze meet hers with the intention to warn her to keep her eyes and her distance from me.

However, I stopped in my tracks when I had seen the look upon her face.

Perhaps it could have been fear that was etched across her face, but I somehow wasn't able to convince myself of that. Even from across the stands I could tell her eyes were wide and watering, but not crying. Her face had paled and the frizzier strands of her hair blew about her face while she stared directly into my own. Part of me knew I should break the contact, but the other part of me was frozen as still as she was, and I didn't have the faintest idea why.

It was not a feeling I had ever experienced before, so I was not able to put words to it until many years later.

However, in that moment I didn't like the way she looked at me. Her eyes seemed not those of a twelve-year-olds but rather of someone beyond her years, which was the scariest thing of all. I felt like I was looking at a woman and suddenly I couldn't distinguish her small, girlish features but rather I only saw the sharp angles and smooth surfaces and curves that would soon shape her face and form.

And all that was nothing compared to her eyes.

A fleeting memory came to mind, and I remembered as if it were yesterday the ancient eyes possessed by old souls my mother used to tell me about. I had never known what she meant before or given it any thought at all since that day, but it made perfect sense to me now. The girl's eyes were darker than I remembered them being and seemed to look right into me, and there was something hidden in them- a message, perhaps-

Finally, Severus got my attention and I was able to shake myself look away from her. I felt a rush of chilly, but refreshing air wash over me as I recollected myself and cleared those strange, impulsive thoughts from my head. However, when I looked back at the Gryffindor stands, I saw her pushing her way past students and exiting the stands.

I gritted my teeth and grimaced, wondering what in Merlin's name she was up to. My mind raced with the possibilities and images of her telling the Headmaster or her Head of House what had actually transpired between us; which to some might seem inconsequential, but to me was a substantial mortifying occurrence.

Making up a poor excuse to Severus, I exited the stands hurriedly, calling out to my long-time colleague and friend to explain to my son why I had to leave early. He was never too thrilled with me when I didn't stay to talk to him at length after his games, or stroke his ego, rather.

Although I was beyond annoyed I had to clean up after myself now with the girl, I would face the disappointment of my one and only heir for this was more important and had to be done. I followed after the Mudblood, and cursed when I saw her run blindly into the Dark Forest. Drawing my wand, I continued on the trail after her, eventually needing to break into a run just to keep up with her.

After a few minutes of puzzled running I wondered where the hell she was going. She neatly dodged branches and avoided tree roots like she had done this many times and knew the area well, but I knew that to be impossible.

When she at last came to a stop, I watched her from a distance, trying to determine how best to go about this. She was only a child, after all, but there had to be some way I could threaten her without succeeding so well that I was eventually found out.

I needed to scare her; not scar her.

I refused to put my position of power and prestige with the Ministry of Magic in jeopardy because I had worked too meticulously hard for too many of my years for it all to be torn down by one insignificant little Mudblood who had the misfortune of finding me on a Muggle train…

But as I looked on at her, clutching the tree and breathing so heavily while trying to control her sobs, I wondered if perhaps she was not as insignificant as she appeared-

Why else was I chasing after her like my own life depended on it? Surely if rumors did surface it would only be too easy for me to quash them with my trademark cool logic and renowned authority.

-But only for a moment.

I shook myself. Of course she didn't matter. She was just another Muggle had that managed to wiggle her way into our world; and moreover, she might have been able to do so because of my actions- I was solely responsible for this incident, this mess that I had made.

Steeling my face and emotions, I finally made to reveal myself to her and she looked as if she couldn't believe her eyes. Even she could not fathom why I would follow her into the forest, so I seriously considered if I had gone mad; had I taken this situation too far already? I longed to just sneer and hex her and just leave her in the forest, but I knew that would not help my situation any.

Instead, I felt my lips spread into a smirk, and I decided to see where this was going.

I acknowledged that she had finally remembered and watched the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Yes, she was nervous. Good.

Then I warned her against telling anyone and when she started retreating I felt myself snap. She would not be allowed to escape me, or speak to anyone about what happened between us- which was essentially nothing, but to me, was everything.

Her wrist was fragile and small in my grip and it was only too easy to disarm her. Now I could see the fear in her eyes that had been absent before.

Well, she should be scared of me. I threatened her just enough before I squeezed the soft, shivering flesh under my own let her go.

As soon as I was sure she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't tell anyone on the condition I refrain from calling her Muggle or Mudblood I felt relief. Sometimes, I truly envied Severus for his Legilimency skills.

How I wished I could verbally deride her existence there and then, but I held back for the most part.

Then, I had no choice but to lead her out of the forest before it got dark. The last thing I needed was to be seen leaving the girl in the dangerous woods filled with dark creatures; my reputation as a school governor would be called into question.

Once we reached the edge, I parted from her but hung back and made sure she went back into the castle.

Silently, I watched the bushy-haired girl make her way into the castle with slow, deliberate movements like she itched to turn right around and go back. She looked over her shoulder twice but made no indications that she could see me from the shadows. I felt strangely compelled to make sure she went straight to her dormitory, but resisted the urge. I was confident enough in myself that she would keep from retelling the events of today to anyone.

Moreover, it would look odd if I re-entered the castle after telling Severus I was departing early for a previous engagement I had forgotten all about in the excitement of Draco's Quidditch match; especially because he had looked at me with such a doubtful glower but had no valid reason to be suspicious.

I cared not either way; getting my point across to the girl was more pertinent at the time.

When I saw the castle doors close behind her I breathed a sigh of relief and went on my way.

Now that I had thoroughly convinced myself she would keep quiet my mind was less burdened. Particularly knowing now that no one had believed her before now, I smiled in satisfaction at that- but that still left the question: whom _had_ she told?

Grimacing, I wondered if I should cover my tracks even more. I simply could not allow anyone to even ponder if I, the Lord over the Malfoy estate, had anything at all to do with exposing a Muggle to magic. Even the thought was embarrassing…

All of it boiled down to my egregious error in getting onto the Muggle train instead of the Magical one destined for our family vacation house. It had been a good investment when I convinced the Minister to make the train station more separated from the Muggles after the fact.

At the time, I was simply using the girl to get off the train. But then in the compartment when she began talking about my cloak and eyes, of all the things she could have done after a stranger led her into an empty compartment, I naturally assumed she was a young witch there with her magical parents somewhere.

Even I had to admit a Muggle could not have been able to see my cloak turning like the very universe did. But somehow that girl, the Mudblood, could. She was… different, somehow… But even more unsettling was that she had seen the living magic coursing through my body, without any effort on my part to show her. It took a talented witch or wizard to accomplish that, and I refused to think that she somehow managed it on her own.

After much reflection I decided that my exposing her to magic must have influenced her in some way. It was my fault that she was able to recognize magic for what it was and my own error that she was able to get into Hogwarts, because of my interference.

Really, I should have predicted this situation and met with Fudge about the incoming students at Hogwarts last year. Things were safer back then.

If the Dark Lord returned, as most said he would, he would not be pleased to learn that I was involved in giving the Potter boy a steady ally, no matter how not worth mentioning. According to my son, the Mudblood was always with Potter and the youngest Weasley brat and based on Draco's constant babbling about her, she was not so very immaterial- she was possibly even clever, if she had managed to best my son in every subject at school.

It was unacceptable. I needed to find a way to put her in her place, once and for all… but how?

Once I was back in the comfort of my manor and after the warmth of two or three goblets of wine I had calmed down and rationality returned to my mind. The girl was not going to be a threat to me, or be involved in my life in anyway; I was simply over-thinking everything.

It was an annoyingly horrid habit of mine, brought on by years and years of scheming.

All of my plans for this year had already been set in motion with the diary. If the Dark Lord's pet did what it was created for then I would no longer have to worry about the Mudblood- the basilisk would make sure of that. So all I had to do was wait for that day to come.

Smiling at my own expense, I gulped the remainder of my wine goblet and stared into the fire. I could finally stop thinking about and focusing all my energies on the Mudblood, for she would probably be dead soon and no one would be able to trace the dastardly act back to me.

In fact, if anyone would be found guilty, it would probably be the Weasley girl who I had slipped the diary to and that made my plotting all the more sweetly satisfying.

Perhaps I was a bit over-firm in threatening the Mudblood, but at least she would keep quiet for now and if my plan with the diary somehow failed then perhaps another visit with the girl would be in order.

But soon, very soon I hoped, this matter would be behind me entirely.

About four months later the day came when I received a letter from Draco saying that the girl had encountered the monster. Unfortunately, he couldn't say what had happened to her because the Headmaster was keeping all the effected students in tight quarters from all the other students but his words were encouraging and promising.

More unsettling though, my son also told me of the rumors flying around the pupils that the school would be closing soon, and I simply could not allow that. After all, none of the pureblood students were in any danger and I did not fancy the costs it would take to transfer Draco to Karkaroff's school. It was simply a waste of my profits and I hoped Narcissa was repentant that she refused to let him go away to Bulgaria to attend Durmstrang for schooling.

With a long sheet of parchment signed by all of the other school governors rolled up neatly and sealed in my hand, I made my way back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry alone without fetching the Minister first. His presence there would be superfluous.

If all went well the gamekeeper and the headmaster would be thrown out of the school and his throne and as an added bonus I would be able to confirm the Mudblood girl was dead.

With all the Muggle riffraff they had running through the school it was a wonder to me how the monster had managed to find her so quickly.

When I arrived at the castle I briskly walked past and ignored Filch and went straight to the Headmaster's office. It wasn't as if I didn't know my own way, having attended the school myself many years ago, and I also had to admit I was in a slight bit of a hurry. I felt anticipation tingling in my limbs; but whether it was for the soon-to-come displacement of the old fool or that I was about to discover the outcome of the girl's fate, I couldn't be sure.

But when I reached the statue and went through Dumbledore's door, the room was empty.

Scowling partly in annoyance and partly at the old man's poor taste in décor (or lack thereof,) I turned and strode out of the room.

I thought perhaps I would find the headmaster on the way to or at the Hospital Wing so I backtracked until I found the ornate doors and regally pushed my way through them so they swung wide.

No petrified students, just a few sick ones tossing and whimpering in their beds.

I sneered disdainfully and made my way through the room connected to the common area to a closed door in the corner. I quickly unlocked it with wandless magic and proceeded.

Ah.

There he was, with the deputy headmistress and the old nurse forming a circle in the center of the room where the spoke amongst themselves. I could see some students propped awkwardly on top of the sheets of their beds, unmoving and covers undrawn around them, but not the one I wanted to see. I approached the others until they realized my presence and stopped talking.

"Oh, I beg your pardon but do not let me interrupt you, Headmaster. These will be your last words in this position, after all," I murmured, smirking at each of them in turn. I continued walking past them as McGonagall and Pomfrey started firing questions at me of why I was there and how I came to be there in the first place.

I ignored the old women, my eyes finally finding and focusing on the girl laying on the last bed in the row. I paused between steps as I took in the sight of her a few feet away from me. Whereas the other students I had immediately dismissed as the incompetent Muggle fools they were as I looked upon the girl… though I couldn't recall her first name at the moment, it being an outlandish mouthful; her last name- Granger- came to my brain.

She seemed… not as pathetic as the others. The expression on her face was hardly one of helpless surprise; it was filled with _knowing. _Her lips were parted slightly, the only given indication that she was caught off guard and my eyes roamed over the tightly curled hand at her side and also the other that held a mirror just in front of her and was looking into it like…

I blanched at her, staring into those nearly-dead eyes.

…Like she knew what had been coming.

But how? How could a girl her of her age and her nonexistent magical background possibly figure out the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets? Most people alive today did not even believe it ever existed, let alone know the story or its mysteries.

It was unfathomable.

There was absolutely no way she could have learned the secret somewhere- it was impossible for I had seen to it that Draco kept his mouth shut and I had never discovered any books on the Chamber when I was attending school- but why else would she have been carrying a mirror?

I cursed inwardly and recollected myself before turning back to the others with my original plan taking priority once more.

"The other governors feel that you are no longer fit to run this establishment, Albus. All of these attacks on students are most regrettable and tragedies such as this need to dealt with appropriate actions. Here, take a look for yourself," I said, extending the rolled up piece of parchment to him.

Now it was me who itched to turn around, to look upon her face once more as if I didn't truly believe it had been her. But I held back and controlled myself. I had to maintain my composure in front of the scholars in the room.

Surely it would look suspicious if I preoccupied myself with the state of her, but I had to know how she had done it…

"Well, I am sorry that you all feel this way, Lucius. I'm sure Minerva will be able to fill my place-"

"-Ah, if I may, as I'm sure you will recall, in the event of the displacement of the headmaster of the school the governors will be called to reinstate a new one. While I'm sure Professor McGonagall is more than capable of filling your place, I think it would be best if we followed the other governor's wishes. So your deputy may fill in until the morning, at which time I believe we will have reached a decision," I said fluidly in a smooth voice.

Minerva looked as if I'd slapped her. Dumbledore simply looked resigned.

"Well then; shall I walk you out Headmaster?"

I followed the old man out of the room, the sweetness of this victory soured by the bitterness of the Mudblood Granger.

Then with the door closed behind me, I looked once more past the standing women and found her bed, but her face was blocked by the mirror. I gritted my teeth inwardly and turned to leave.

* * *

An hour later I sat at the bar inside the Leaky Cauldron and worked on my second firewhiskey. Narcissa didn't allow any such drinks in our manor; only wine and champagne, the snobbish cow.

Mine and Narcissa's marriage was one of necessity. When we were in our early twenties my father pointed her out to me as a potential wife and child bearer. It was between her and her dark-haired sister Bellatrix and another young with I couldn't even recall the name of. Narcissa had simply been the most logical choice due to her family history and the fact that she was much more reserved than Bellatrix. Also, she had blonde hair and I wanted sons that looked like me most of all as all my father's fathers.

At the time, I had not been up to the challenge of courting someone as wild and unpredictable as Bellatrix and the other woman did not have much going for her in looks or familial renown.

Narcissa was everything a wife should be, she delegated our servants, supported my decisions and actions, and she did produce an heir for me- but only one. After Draco we tried again for years with no success until she finally went to St. Mungo's and saw a mediwitch. My bitterest disappointment was realized and we discovered my wife could not have any more children.

Looking back now, I questioned my previous decision. Bellatrix had no children to this day, but I still often wondered if I would have been able to tame the shrew, as they say, and if she wouldn't have been the better choice. Though still imprisoned in Azkaban, the older sister might have been a better choice as she was more devoted to the Dark Lord's cause and had less qualms and morals to hold her back.

I absorbed myself in thoughts of my wife and her sister only to keep from thinking of a much younger girl; a girl who was a mystery to me, infuriated me, and whom I could not stop thinking about no matter how much I speculated on my own life.

Whenever I looked down into the bitter and amber-coloured liquid I could see her face; that astounding petrified, all-knowing face.

I slammed the once-more empty glass down hard on the bar and grimaced as the whiskey burned down my throat.

Still, the one word the screamed out across my mind was: how? How had the little bitch managed to stay alive?

Shortly after I arrived I speculated if she had maybe taken the mirror out to check her hair or face or what-have-you and was caught off guard moments later; but I quickly dismissed that as preposterous. Though I did not know the girl well she did not seem the kind to take her looks to heart and judging the stack of books next to her bedside and Draco's incessant complaining of her knowing all the questions the professors asked, I could surmise that she invested herself in her studies far more than her outward appearance. Not to mention the look of determination on her brow suggested that she was expecting something.

But that left only one possibility.

I was interrupted from my thoughts when the bartender stood in front of me and filled my glass again without hesitation and flicked some galleons at him as I took up my goblet once more.

Perhaps I should not have been as concerned as I was with how the girl knew about the Chamber. After all, she was still not even a teenager yet. What could she do with such knowledge?

Not much.

And she was as Gryffindor as they come, from what my son told me. Then a thought struck me as I eyed the swords hanging up as decoration on the wall.

Surely she hadn't been planning to… try and _stop_ the basilisk? Was she even capable of such blinding stupidity? A Mudblood would not even stand a chance against the monster, and that was not a hateful statement it was fact; the basilisk could smell their Muggle blood much better than it could a pureblood's or even a half-blood.

But suddenly it was the only thing that made sense. The Potter boy had something to do with Quirrell last year; it was all Draco could talk about over the summer, although to his credit it was because Gryffindor took the House cup from Slytherin because of their breaking of rules. But the Mudblood had helped him and they had somehow managed to make it through all of the trials and facing Quirrell with the Dark Lord power miraculously unscathed.

Still… if she knew, if the girl had really known what was coming after her from the Chamber of Secrets and she was not hiding in fear, perhaps I had underestimated her on some level. After all, she had learned the truth while in school, which was not something I could say that I had accomplished. I only learned the truth shortly after my joining the ranks of the Death Eaters.

There was only one thing to do.

I stood from the bar after I had finished my last drink and grabbed my cloak off the coat rack as I exited the Hog's Head pub. I started walking to the Apparition point as I fastened the button by my neck and relished the cool wind that whipped against my face.

From what I had briefly heard of Dumbledore's conversation, they were brewing mandrake roots to revive the students. If it worked and she survived, I would have to find her and question her. I had to know how she, a Mudblood girl only in her second year of schooling, unraveled the mystery of the Chamber.

Perhaps then once I knew what really happened, I could dismiss the issue as a bit of nosiness or pure luck on her part.

Yes, then I would definitely be able to get this nagging feeling out of my head.

At the end of the walkway I turned and Apparated on the spot, reappearing in Wiltshire right outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. I walked straight through the wrought-iron bars as they dissolved around me, recognizing the blood of my ancestors immediately.

Narcissa was home and lounged on one the chaise sofas in the Sitting Room. She wore only her powder blue silk nightgown with a sheer robe hanging around her form loosely.

"Well, there you are, I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home," Narcissa simpered from the cushions she lounged on and I looked her over once more.

I had definitely picked the most beautiful wife all those years ago and that was never something I would regret. Slowly and deliberately I made my way over to her, shedding my cloak and letting it drop to the floor carelessly for a House Elf to pick up later.

She opened her clear blue eyes and they landed on me, a small smile breaking across her face. But as I drew nearer to her and bent over her, my hands sliding around her waist, she put her hands flat against my chest.

"Wait, hold on- you positively _reek, _Lucius," my wife wrinkled her nose and turned her head from me.

I sighed in exasperation. "I had a glass at the pub on my way home from the school, Narcissa. I had to celebrate somehow after finally getting rid of that old Muggle-loving idiot," I explained, and tried planting a kiss on her shoulder but I knew Narcissa wouldn't have it now.

"I've told you before Lucius, I hate that God-awful stuff. And I know you didn't just have one- you never do! Don't think you can lie to me," she snapped, getting angry now and swiping at my grip on her.

With a frustrated growl, I let go of her and simply left her there calling after me without another word. I didn't have the energy to fight with my wife tonight.

Instead I retired to my own bedroom instead of our shared one and locked the doors. Narcissa was simply becoming too tiresome these days; either I was too drunk to be around her or not interested enough in her. I had hoped I could sleep with her to take my mind off of things and forget about the girl and the events of the past few months but now she wouldn't even let me do that.

The Mudblood… too smart for her own good; and always meddling in things she had no right to be a part of. I would have to make sure she didn't try anything like this again. It was my responsibility after all; I was the one who had gotten us into this mess.

Everything came back to the Liverpool train. I exposed everything about this life to her that day and I couldn't ignore that she was a young, precocious, little Gryffindor brat who couldn't keep her nose where it didn't belong.

Idly I wondered how long I would be cleaning up after myself with the girl. '_If she lives through this…' _ I had to remind myself again.

It didn't take more than a few months until the petrified form fully took over the body. This, of course would be sure solve many of the future problems I was sure to face with her, but then…

I fell onto my bed and stared up at the dark tapestry-covered canopy.

Then I would never know how she did it. How had she managed to do it? I would never be able to ask the girl if she were dead.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would look into the mandrake root. Maybe there was some way to speed up the process in the brewing cycle or there was an ingredient that could be added or, or something. Right now, she was of no use to me dead.

I was and always will be a Malfoy and we always get what we wanted. I would find out, and then after I wouldn't care what happened to the damned Mudblood.

After resolving myself to do this, I tried to quiet my mind enough to sleep but it took hours before I was finally able to close my eyes and not see that cold, near-death face staring back at me, her eyes taunting me with the answer.

* * *

Weeks later I still had not found any way to enhance the antidote or discovered another solution and grew more irritable every day. The school year was quickly coming to a close and I feared for myself that the Mudblood would become fully petrified before I could find out how she solved the mystery of the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets.

Then out of the blue, an owl flew in from Draco. As I read the contents of the parchment I couldn't believe what I was reading.

All of the students had been revived, Dumbledore had returned to the school, and rumors were flying about that the Potter boy and Weasley's kid had gone to the Chamber and battled the monster themselves. Draco didn't give any credit to the rumors, but they must have been true because all the attacks had stopped.

My eyes flew back over his handwriting, and reread the first few sentences.

'_Potter somehow managed to put a stop to everything once again, and none of the Mudbloods even died, Father, it was such a shame. Now Gryffindor is sure to win the cup again because of Dumbledore's ridiculous hero-worshipping of Potter.'_

So… she lived. The girl was still alive and now I could finally find out what had really happened, how she had really found out.

I made myself ready to go to Hogwarts again, but not only with the intention of thoroughly questioning the girl. I was also furious the headmaster had returned without my being consulted with the other governors.

With both of my motives in place I made my way back to the school with a determined edge in my step.

After my confrontation with Potter and Dumbledore, whom I concluded my son was right about; the old man's eyes twinkled a little too much around the young boy; I was quite livid. The boy flat-out accused me in front of the Headmaster and also tricked me into setting one of my House elves free. While I didn't care about losing Dobby, I did mind that the boy had managed to pull the wool over my eyes and make a fool of me.

Now all I wanted to do was run into the girl somehow so I could question her. She'd be lucky if I didn't end up cursing her in the current state I was in, and the longer it took to find her the more impatient I became.

This was foolish. I was wandering the castle searching for a preteen I barely knew so I could ask her how she was so smart.

Eventually someone would see me and question what I was doing here. It looked odd enough, I was sure, but I could always make up the excuse that I was searching for my son.

I kept walking through the halls until I passed the library and stopped suddenly. Draco always said she could most often times be seen with a book in her nose, so I decided to go out on a limb and I entered the doorway.

Madame Pince was not at her post thankfully, so I kept walking into the nearly empty library. There were a few Ravenclaw students studying in small groups, but none paid any attention to me. I moved past rows of books and empty tables until finally I saw her.

The Mudblood sat alone at a table with her back to me in the corner of the room, writing furiously on some parchment with books sprawled all over the place.

I watched her for a few moments and briefly wondered how was the best way to go about my questioning of her. We were mostly out of earshot of the other pupils in the library, so I decided to approach her table and sat at the seat across from her.

Her eyes flicked up to me for a moment, not pausing in her work before she went back to her paper seemingly unconcerned, but then a moment later she abruptly stopped, no doubt fully realizing whom it was sitting just a few feet away from her.

"Mr. - Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing here?" She asked bewilderedly, her eyes were wide brown circles and I could swear I practically felt her heart hammering against her ribcage. She had let her quill bleed onto the paper and cursed as she rubbed at it futilely.

"Why, Miss Granger, I was simply coming to check and see how you were. My son tells me that you were in quite the predicament only a few days ago."

She shot me a disapproving look as she closed her books and I had to admit it surprised me. Perhaps Potter had already told her that I was the one behind it, even though he had no real proof. I would deny it that they were my actions until the day I was dead.

"Might I ask what you are doing here? I have heard that the Headmaster made history by cancelling the final exams this year," I said coolly, "and yet, here you are, studying."

Her face turned serious again. "Just because we don't have exams doesn't mean we don't need to be ready for next year. Those tests were meant to prepare us for next year and now…" she trailed off, looking up at me and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would _you_ come to check on _me_?"

Her sudden question nearly threw me off my original path.

"As I'm sure you're aware, I am on the Hogwarts school Board of Governors. It is my duty to make sure the students at this school are safe," I replied smoothly and raised an eyebrow at her, as if it were obvious.

"Right," she responded, and looked down at the table. Then she looked back up at me, her eyes piercing. "Is that why you came to see me in the Hospital Wing too?"

Blanching inwardly, I could not counter right away. I did not think she would have been conscious during that time. Obviously not, or I wouldn't have…

"Don't be absurd, I did not come to see you then, I was simply carrying out a duty given to me by the other governors and the Headmaster was in the same room at the time," I pointed out, growing annoyed. This conversation was not going how I planned it at all.

She did not look convinced, but I pushed away that matter entirely. I did not come to argue with the girl over why I was here; I only came to find out one thing.

"Although, while we are on the subject, there is just one thing I have been wondering about since that night…" I baited her and waited for her to take it.

For a moment she chewed on her lip before she hesitantly asked, "Wondering about what?"

"I noticed that you had been carrying a mirror and you were looking into it rather than past it or behind you, which would have been the case if you were taken by surprise. Was there any particular reason for this?"

I let my question sink in and watched the puzzled look on her face. She was trying to figure out why I was asking her this, probably pondering why I even cared, as I often wondered that myself. But I was finally going to just know, once and for all.

It looked as if she were debating answering me, and I was about to haughtily ask her again when she finally spoke.

"Well, I wasn't taken by surprise. I knew the basilisk was coming after me, I just couldn't tell which direction it was coming from, so I was just walking backwards with the mirror to my Common Room," she said matter-of-factly, as if it were the simplest thing in the universe.

So she _had_ known. But how; how was such a thing possible?

It took me a few moments to collect my thoughts enough to respond. "So you knew about the basilisk, and that it hunted your kind and how to get around the castle safely…" I stated slowly, trying to form my next sentence carefully. "Then I have just one more question for you. Who told you about the Chamber?"

I stared into those strange eyes as she blinked repeatedly and finally answered, "No one."

I scowled at her. "What do you mean, 'no one'?"

She frowned right back at me. "I mean just that; no one. No one told me anything on the matter of it, I read about it in a book."

Scoffing, I replied, "That's impossible. There is not one book in this library-"

"Yes, there is one," she interrupted me, reaching into her book bag. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and slid it across the table to me.

I looked down at it and saw a passage from a book I did not recognize with certain words highlighted with circles around them. I could only stare in disbelief at the puzzle she had solved, the pieces she had put together so masterfully. Snakes, pipes, spiders, chickens… It was incongruous- no, ludicrous- not viable in any way, that a Mudblood girl…

She was now opening a book and flipping its pages until she found the one she wanted and laid it flat, so I could see the inside of the spine of the book where she had torn the page out.

I continued looking down in disbelief until I realized I probably looked foolish. I sneered at her, "Well, I suppose you feel like you're so very clever for figuring it all out on your own."

Her cheeks burned red and I felt a little better. "No, I don't. I was only trying to help Harry and if I had gotten to him in time-"

"What? What then, Miss Granger?" I challenged her.

She looked at me square in the eyes and breathed, "It was really you. You're the one-"

"Forgive me, but I am a naturally busy man, little girl," I cut her off this time and emphasized her title as I stood to my full height, "I'm sure anyone could tell you I've been very preoccupied at the Ministry all year and couldn't possibly find the time to come and wreak havoc on the school my own flesh and blood attends."

I mirthlessly chuckled quietly. "It's laughable, really. That you would think I would waste my time and energy on you, in any way. But if you wish to pursue such a dangerous thought, I will not stop you. I think you will find my power, status and influence goes much farther than yours would," I said, keeping my voice low so as to not be overheard and had come to stand beside her while she still faced the window.

Her eyes shone with what could have been unshed tears as I leaned closer to her ear to murmur, "So I just dare you. Keep meddling in things in which you don't belong and you will find I can think of much better ways to be rid of you than by setting a giant snake in the school."

She started to turn her head from me but I caught her chin in my fingers to keep her still enough to mutter in her ear, "Good day, Mudblood."

I roughly let go of her and turned without another word, leaving the library and the school without stopping once, not even to see my son. My blood was still boiling in my veins and it was all because of her.

How dare she? How that stupid little Muggle flaunt some semblance of intelligence in my face and expect to get away with it?

Now that I knew she had done it all on her own, of course I felt no better than before because none of my problems had been solved. In fact, now they felt even bigger than they were before and that made me fume with hatred towards her.

Perhaps if she had been told about the Chamber, I could have moved on. That would have been a silly mistake on the other person's part and no fault on hers, just her being exposed to even more that which she had no right to be a part of; that I could forgive and go on from.

But no… she solved the mystery using her own common sense and a carefully hidden book from the library, which was something I had never been able to do.

The Mudblood would need to be watched carefully. I resolved to find some way to keep Draco close to her enough without making her suspicious so I could find out what she up to, what she was really all about.

If it was the last thing I ever did, I would discover why she was the way she was and most importantly, if I had anything to do with it, like I so feared.

The girl would not escape me yet.


End file.
